


Pangs of Despised Love

by Adona



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 10:51:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2345798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adona/pseuds/Adona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Avon has an identity crisis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pangs of Despised Love

In the quiet solitude of "ship's night," Vila Restal sullenly contemplated his bleak and lonely future. Just seventy-two hours earlier he had been looking toward the time stretching before him with a glorious hope and anticipation. That was before all of the color had drained out of his life. That was before Vila had first come face to face with Avon's open contempt.

In all the time they had known each other, the computer tech had, at best, treated Vila with indifference and, at worst, tolerated him with poorly disguised annoyance. It had not been a pleasant situation, but Vila had learned to live with it. He could not live with the obvious animosity Avon now directed at him. He had crawled into a bottle that first day, wanting only to dull the pain. He was cold sober now, however, and he was coming to a difficult decision. 

He should have known better, the thief berated himself, thinking back with sick regret to the seemingly joyful event that had led to this new harsh reality.

* * *

They had escaped the suspicious scrutiny of Blake and the others to the privacy of Avon's quarters and set about the task of dividing their winnings. The trip to Freedom City had had its ups and downs, but they had come away winners in the end. Vila had always found the feeling of winning exhilerating -- even more so on this occasion because it had been shared with Avon. He had never really expected to get on the man's good side, but their escapade behind the formidible back of Roj Blake seemed to have created a certain comradery between them. Vila ran his hands through the substantial pile of credit chips before him and looked up happily at Avon, who returned his smile triumphantly.

"This calls for a celebration. I don't suppose you have anything to drink around here?" Vila asked hopefully.

"As a matter of fact, I do," Avon replied with a glint in his eye. He headed for the hidden panel in the far wall. "I've been saving this for a special occasion." He returned with a bottle of eight hundred year old brandy.

Vila's eyes grew wide. "Where did you get this? It's worth a fortune!"

"Yes, well, it seems you're not the only thief aboard. I came across this among Sarkoff's things. I thought that, with his obsession with ancient artifacts, he wouldn't properly appreciate such a fine bottle of liquor. He probably would have set it on a shelf without ever opening it. Oh, that would have been a shame, don't you agree?" Avon's eyes gleamed wickedly.

"Unthinkable," Vila nodded, staring at the bottle greedily.

Avon produced a pair of glasses, and uncorked the bottle. He poured the rich amber liquid into the glasses and handed one to Vila. The thief closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply the bouquet of the remarkable fluid. He sipped slowly, holding the warm richness in his mouth. After a moment he swallowed. 

"Avon, this is wonderful. I've never tasted anything like it."

"Neither have I," Avon agreed, swallowing his own mouthful of nectar, watching with interest as the Delta inadvertently revealed himself as an experienced connoisseur.

The two men lapsed into relaxed conversation, mostly about their new-found wealth, and the ease with which they had cheated the Big Wheel. Before long, the effects of the strong liquor were being felt by both of them.

"Mind you," Vila went on, "that Speed Chess tournament took a few years off my life."

"Yes, mine too," Avon admitted. "Please, Vila, don't ever do anything like that again. You scared me half to death." 

Vila was a bit startled that Avon had felt that way and, even more, that he would admit it. "I'm sorry," he answered simply.

Avon waved the apology away. "It's over now. Have some more brandy." He refilled both glasses.

Vila studied the tech carefully. The thick defenses that usually surrounded the man had been lowered for the first time in their nearly two year acquaintance. Vila glimpsed the softer edges of Avon's personality in the unusually relaxed attitude. He proceeded cautiously, hoping that this would set a precedent that might lead to a real friendship between the two of them.

"So, what do you plan to do with your share of the money?" he asked casually.

"Well now, that is the question, isn't it? Thanks to Blake, we do not have many choices." He took a long sip of brandy.

"You're right about that," Vila agreed wryly. "Well, if you could do anything you wanted, what would you do?"

Avon smiled -- "bared his teeth" might be a better description -- his voice becoming intense. "If I could do anything, I'd take the Liberator, and all of her wealth, and I'd disappear. I would need no one. I would be invulnerable." He paused, visualizing the familiar image. His eyes then came to rest on Vila. "What about you -- what would you do?"

"Oh, I'm not as ambitious as you are. I'm a man of simple tastes. I'd just like to have myself one hell of a party. Wine, women, and song, you know. And the best sex money could buy."

Avon cocked an eyebrow. "Sex? Is that really more important to you than the freedom this money represents?"

"I grew up as a Delta, Avon. I never learned to expect much in the way of freedom. All I ask for is a little pleasure now and then -- preferably with someone I like, but I've gotten used to taking what I can get. Sex that is paid for is better than no sex at all."

"Which is exactly what we've been living with for nearly two years," Avon responded softly.

"Don't remind me. Oh, what I wouldn't give for just one night of absolute decadence." Vila sighed dreamily. He looked at Avon. "Doesn't it ever get to you, living like this?"

"Of course it does," he stated frankly. "I try not to dwell on it, but I do have a very healthy sex drive. Sometimes it is. . .difficult."

Vila nodded knowingly. It was difficult for him, as well. Increasingly so, since he was forced to work so closely with someone to whom he was so strongly attracted. He eyed Avon again. The tech was uncharacteristically open tonight. Vila could scarcely believe the subject of sex was being discussed between them. He found himself wondering how Avon would respond to the suggestion. He didn't want to do anything to make Avon slam the walls down between them again, but perhaps there was a non-threatening way he could broach the subject. 

"Well, you're just about the smartest person I've ever known -- can't you come up with a solution to our mutual problem?"

Avon glanced up sharply and held Vila's eyes for a long moment. In a steady voice, he said, "It seems rather obvious to me." He slowly rose and came to stand next to Vila's chair.

Vila stood, looking at the other man invitingly. Avon took the one forward step necessary to press their bodies against one another. Vila was expecting a kiss and was surprised when, instead, Avon's hands snaked up his chest and began unfastening his tunic. Already, excitement was making Vila's breath come more quickly. He had often imagined making love with Avon, and now, it seemed, his fantasy was about to become reality. 

The light touch was electric across Vila's skin as Avon pushed the tunic back off of his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. A soft moan escaped his lips as Avon stroked his shoulders and chest provocatively. It had been a long time since he had been touched by anyone, and he succumbed rapidly to the tactile pleasure. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back, reveling in the sensations of Avon's surprisingly gentle touch. His desire for Avon had always been strong, and Vila now found his passion growing quickly. It wasn't long before he needed more. 

Dropping his chin and meeting Avon's eyes, Vila reached up to remove the other man's tunic, unfastening it with slow, taunting deliberation. The thief could see impatience growing in his partner's eyes, and smiled slightly, glad to know that he was getting to the usually reserved Alpha.

When, finally, the tunic dropped away, Vila stroked Avon's chest, rubbing the warm pink nipples with his thumbs. At the feather-light touch of the sensitive fingers, Avon stiffened. He was surprised by the strength of his reaction, by the sudden urgency of his need. He closed his eyes to conceal the responses from Vila. His own attentions moved to Vila's back, lightly massaging the smooth skin. 

Vila's hands slowly worked their way down Avon's torso to his trousers. He opened them easily, sliding his hands around Avon's muscular back and slipping them down into the loosened pants. He pulled the other man tight against him, caressing and kneeding the firm buttocks. Avon groaned, and Vila could feel him already growing hard against his own groin.

Vila bent his head, trailing soft kisses over Avon's shoulder and neck up to his ear, there licking and sucking sensuously on the lobe. The taste of the tech's skin was intoxicating. Vila began to surrender to the strong emotions that he had kept buried for so very long. The intensity of his explorations increased.

Avon's breath grew ragged with deepening arousal. Vila was kneeding his ass with consumate skill. The movements also pressed his groin into Vila's with an alarmingly suggestive rhythm. His own hands stilled as he clung tightly to the smaller man. The thief's gentle passion flooded over Avon, reaching painfully deep into his soul. He could scarcely believe that this was Vila who was exciting him so. He told himself that it was because it had been so long since he had been with anyone, and because Vila was so skillful. But, somewhere inside, he knew that there was more to it than that. He would never have allowed this to happen with any other member of the crew. 

Intimacy with Vila felt surprisingly good, and the tech found that something deep within himself was responding. This was not just sex, Avon realized, startled to find his long inert emotions beginning to stir. He wanted Vila, wanted to be even closer to him. 

Avon had nearly allowed himself to become lost in desire, as Vila's hot mouth meandered over his face, tenderly kissing his eyes and cheeks before moving to his mouth. Abruptly, the spell was broken. Avon wrenched his head away. "Don't --" he breathed, stiffening.

Vila froze at the rejection. Swallowing down his hurt feelings, he whispered, "Do you want me to leave?"

After a slight pause, Avon shook his head, surprised at his reluctance to let go of the man. He pulled Vila closer, but did not look at him. Vila waited for an explanation, but Avon did not speak. Instead, he clung even more tightly to the thief, choking on the knot in his throat, fighting to regain some of his self-control. 

What had just happened, Vila wondered? Avon was obviously struggling with something. The kiss. . . . It had upset him. Yet it was clear from the tight grip that he did not want to let go of Vila. 

The thief began softly stroking Avon's back in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. He let down his own barriers completely, demanding nothing and offering everything. He hoped that his hands would speak the words of comfort and caring that he could not give voice to.

At last, he felt a timid hand slide up into his hair. Avon rubbed his cheek against Vila's sensually. Vila relaxed, breathing again. Avon's other hand trailed down Vila's chest to the front of his trousers, unfastening them and reaching inside. 

Vila gasped as the cool hand closed around his hardened penis, the thumb teasing the sensitive head. He set his confusion aside and gave in, once again, to the pleasure of the warm closeness and the titilating sensations assailing him.

He pushed Avon's trousers down. Without hesitation, the Alpha stepped out of them, kicking them aside. Vila resumed his attentions to Avon's backside and to his ear. Avon let out a long moan. He stepped backward, pulling Vila with him, until they reached the bed. Vila stepped away and rid himself of the encumberance of his own trousers before lying down. He looked up to meet Avon's eyes, seeing deep longing reflected there. He knew that his own eyes were projecting the same intensity. 

Avon stretched full length on top of him. Vila reached up and caressed Avon's face. Avon closed his eyes and moved with the caress, sighing deeply. Avon looked at the smaller man searchingly. Mingled with the passion in his eyes, Vila now saw an uncertainty, perhaps a trace of fear. The thief was confident that he could reassure him.

Slowly, Vila rolled them so that he lay on top. He held Avon's eyes for a long moment, stroking his hair, hoping that he was projecting all of the love and trust he was feeling. Avon stared back deeply, swallowing hard. Vila bent to tenderly kiss Avon's cheek before moving down his body. He gave some attention to the hard pink nipples, rubbing one with his fingertips, sucking and nibbling on the other. Beneath him, Avon's chest heaved. Vila moved lower, trailing wet kisses over Avon's ribcage and stomach. He dipped his tongue into the dark navel and then blew on it. 

Avon gasped, his hands reaching for Vila's head. His fingers weaved through the soft hair. "Oh, Vila. . ." he groaned thickly. His breath was coming in heavy gasps even before Vila moved down over his eager hardness. 

Vila softly tickled its length with his tongue and then teased the sensitive head provocatively. Avon arched up anxiously, lost in his response to the pleasures being lavished on him. Vila took the warm, quivering balls in his hand, rolling them and squeezing them lightly. The arching of the body beneath him was already changing to rhythmic thrusting by the time he lowered his mouth on the waiting cock. 

He sucked softly at first, wanting to prolong this new-found intimacy as much as possible. Avon cried out with each thrust as his passion approached fulfillment. Vila's ministrations grew more and more intense until, at last, he brought his partner over the edge, riding out the almost violent orgasm.

When Avon had collapsed, panting heavily, Vila released the waning cock from his mouth, kissing it reverently before moving up to lay his head on Avon's shoulder. As Avon's breath began to slow and grow steady, he wrapped his arms around the incredible man who had given so much to him. He hugged him tightly, wishing for a fleeting moment that Vila could be even closer, that he could surpass the barrier of their separate bodies, their separate selves.

Vila nuzzled his face into Avon's neck. With not a small amount of fear, he whispered, "Avon? Can I. . .will you let me kiss you? Please?"

For a moment, Avon remained silent. He never kissed his sexual partners. It was terribly threatening to him, somehow. He had learned young that kissing touched him more deeply than any other physical act seemed to. As an adult, he had never allowed it, until he met Anna. Somehow, she had gotten around all of his self-imposed strictures. And the loss of her still ached in his soul. It had been a mistake -- allowing her to become so important to him. He had sworn never to let it happen again. Foreswearing kissing was one means of keeping that vow. 

He could have sex for the sheer physical pleasure and release. He didn't have to care for his partner. But, a kiss always became too personal -- too intimate, reaching things in him that even he was afraid to look at, tearing down the facades he projected and nearly believed in himself. Inside, he was far more fragile and needy than he cared to admit, even to himself. He couldn't lay himself bare before someone else.

But, he had already let Vila get closer than he had ever expected to. And, inexplicably, he did trust him. 

Suddenly, he found that he wanted to kiss Vila, he wanted to be completely open with this man. He wanted to please the thief, to make him happy. It frightened him. He swallowed hard. "It's important to you, isn't it?" his voice trembled.

"Yes, it is," Vila whispered directly into Avon's ear, preparing for the rejection he was certain would come. He could literally feel the other man's reticence, and so he was rather surprised when Avon sighed and nodded. 

Vila began with Avon's ear, taking it slowly, wanting to put him at ease. He trailed soft kisses over Avon's cheek. At last, he came to those sensuous lips he had so often imagined kissing. He gently pressed his mouth upon them.

Avon's initial response was rather wooden, but Vila's gentle warmth soon began to bypass even his inmost defenses. Avon allowed Vila's caring attentions to draw out his feelings. All tension drained out of him, and he opened his mouth to Vila. The thief penetrated him slowly, savoring the sweetness of Avon's surrender. Vila probed deeper, entwining the still hesitant tongue awaiting him. He carefully coaxed Avon's tongue into his own mouth and then sucked on it softly. 

Avon moaned, not daring to examine the flood of new passions rising in him. Instead, he simply abandoned himself to it, losing all conscious thought in the spell Vila was casting over him. He did remain aware of Vila's arousal pressing into him, however. His hand slid down Vila's damp back and came around to stroke the eager member. The kiss grew deeper still, until it seemed to Avon that Vila was kissing his very soul. 

Tears escaped the corners of his eyes. Vila pulled back, startled. "Avon? What is it?" he asked with concern.

Avon opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't find words that even began to express the torrent of emotions he was feeling. He just shook his head and pulled Vila into another long, passionate kiss. 

When they parted at last, Vila nuzzled into Avon's neck again, relishing the warmth and smell of the man. His erection was growing insistant, but he did not want to push Avon -- did not want to disrupt the intimacy they were sharing.

"Vila," Avon whispered, hardly believing the words he was about to say, "I. . . I want you inside me."

Vila pulled back sharply, looking at his partner is disbelief. "Are you serious?"

Avon nodded. "I need it, Vila. Please."

Overcome by the depth of his feelings, tears now filled Vila's eyes. He kissed Avon gently before moving slowly down his body once again, kissing and caressing his way. He positioned himself between Avon's legs. Avon was already partially erect when Vila again took him into his mouth, licking and sucking him to full hardness. Then, pushing Avon's bent legs up into his chest, Vila moved lower, slowly licking spirals around the rose-like entrance to his lover's body. 

Avon moaned, tears coming again. He had never known such tenderness, such sweet love. Vila had stripped away all of the layers, and was making love to Avon's exposed and trembling heart. As Vila's tongue entered him, he was completely overwhelmed. He had never loved before. He had never been loved. Only now was he learning what love was.

Vila thrust into Avon with his tongue, moistening the dark passage, amazed at the sound of the other man moaning his name over and over in open pleasure. His own need grew demanding. He moved up, resting Avon's legs on his shoulders. Leaning forward so that Avon was virtually bent double, Vila slid his hand beneath the dark head, pulling Avon up into a long, deep kiss. 

Avon's eyes remained closed as Vila lowered his head to the pillow. The thief spat into his hand and reached down, wetting his anxious cock. He positioned the tip against the awaiting entrance but, for a moment, did not move. Summoning all of his courage, he whispered softly, "Avon. I love you."

A whimper escaped from Avon, who squeezed his eyes more tightly shut. He could not, however, hold back his tears. He sobbed out a few deep breaths before pleading, "Please, Vila. Oh, please."

With agonizingly slow deliberation, Vila pushed forward into his lover's body, allowing the tight muscles to open to him as he probed deeper and deeper until he was fully engulfed in the hot darkness. Vila had never known such ecstasy. He looked down at Avon's enraptured face, needing to convince himself that this was real -- he was buried deep inside of Kerr Avon, the man he loved. Never before had he experienced such pure bliss. He felt complete; beyond life, beyond death -- one with Avon, one with the universe. 

Avon lay still, his eyes closed, his mouth hanging open as he breathed deeply. The corner of his mind that remained cognizant was utterly astonished. The empty ache that had been an ever-present fixture within him was gone, filled -- he was no longer alone, no longer lonely. That unnamed need he had subconsciously spent his life trying to meet was suddenly and perfectly fulfilled in the person of Vila Restal. He wanted this moment to last forever. It was complete perfection.

It wasn't long, however, before Avon's body demanded that he return to this reality. He arched up into Vila, at the same time, tightening his muscles around him. Vila gasped, closing his eyes. He pulled back, almost separating them, but then surged forward again, pushing deeply into the burning chasm. Slowly, fighting the urgent commands of his body, he pulled back again and came forward. Again, slowly, back, and then deep. He reached down, taking Avon's straining erection in his hand, pumping it with the same tantalizing rhythm. 

Avon cried out incoherently, his body moving with his lover's. The rhythm grew ever so gradually faster as they moved with each other, with the rhythm of life itself. Out and in, out and in, faster and faster, moving together until even their cries came in unison. 

Orgasm washed over them like a wave, and they rode it out as one. When, at last, the frenzy had passed, Vila collapsed heavily onto his partner. Both men were panting heavily, overcome by the sheer power of their passion. As awareness crept into Vila's mind once again, he withdrew from Avon and lowered the other man's legs, snuggling into him more comfortably. 

Avon was crying again. Vila knew they were not tears of sadness or of pain, but of intimacy and joy. An euphoria swept over him. He could not hold back his own tears, and he buried his face in Avon's neck as they wept together. Eventually, they drifted to sleep, clinging to one another, their faces still wet from their tears.

* * *

Vila was a bit disappointed, though not surprised, to wake up alone in Avon's bed. He knew the tech had an early shift. He had apparently decided to let Vila sleep. The thief smiled to himself at the memory of the night before. Was it possible to die of happiness, he wondered? He loved Avon, completely, unalterably, forever. He stretched luxuriously. He thought his heart might burst.

Eventually, the desire for Avon's company became insistent. He reluctantly climbed out of bed. After showering and dressing, he headed for the flight deck, knowing that, by now, Avon's shift was nearly over. 

Avon stood at a control panel, his back to Vila as the thief entered. Vila couldn't restrain the smile that spread across his face at the sight of his lover. He was relieved that no one else was present. 

Vila crossed to Avon, who looked up at the sound of footsteps. Instead of returning Vila's smile, however, his stoney face held a coldness that surpassed any the thief had received from the tech in the length of their aquaintance. 

Vila's smile disappeared in an instant. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," came Avon's hardest voice. "What could be wrong?"

It was as though a door had been slammed in Vila's face. He opened his mouth, but could find no response. 

"Was there something you wanted? I am really rather busy." It was a dismissal. 

Vila felt suddenly sick to his stomach. Surely this couldn't be the man who had held him so tightly just hours before, who had opened himself to him so completely. Vila shook his head. He needed to escape those hard eyes, that cold demeaner. He bolted for the door, running full speed to his quarters and locking himself in just before the tears came. 

His stomach lurched. He made it to the fresher just in time. Vila vomited until there was nothing left to bring up. Standing up slowly on unsteady legs, he rinsed his mouth before stumbling to his bed and collapsing. Something in him had shattered. He wanted to die. He reached for the bottle on the nightstand, gulping until it was empty. Then he pushed himself from the bed, crossing the room to his private stash. He wanted numbness, and he just happened to have several bottles of it handy. He opened a bottle and took several deep swallows without bothering with a glass. He continued until he passed out. 

* * *

Now, three days later, Vila had managed to avoid seeing Avon again, staying in his quarters whenever possible. He knew that he could not avoid him forever. He also knew that he could not face those eyes again. It would kill him, slowly, painfully, from the inside out. The decision he had reached was a painful one -- more painful than he would have imagined. 

Resigned, Vila knocked on the door before him. Though it was "night," he knew the occupant would be awake. He was asked to enter. Taking a deep breath, he did so.

Blake looked up from the report he was reading, "Good evening, Vila. I haven't seen much of you lately. Have a seat."

Vila complied, looking at the rebel, who was wearing a comfortable robe, ready for bed. Vila knew that once he said the words, he would be committed. He hesitated a moment, but the flashing memory of Avon's eyes renewed his determination. "Blake, I want to leave the Liberator. As soon as possible. Would you please find a suitable planet and teleport me down?"

Blake's eyes widened. He had never seen the thief so resolute. "It's your choice, Vila -- you have every right to leave, of course. But, do you mind telling me why?"

Vila dropped his eyes. "It's personal, Blake. I'd rather not talk about it. I just need to get off of this ship."

Blake sighed. He could not make Vila tell him. "All right, Vila. I'll let you know when I find a planet." He paused. "I'll be sorry to see you go."

Vila met his eyes for a moment. "So will I." He rose and departed, leaving a rather perplexed rebel in his wake.

* * *

Blake entered the flight deck, barefooted and still clad in his robe. Avon was there alone, sitting at his position and looking bored. He looked up in surprise at the rebel leader.

Ignoring the tech, Blake crossed in a bee-line to Orac. He inserted the key. "Orac, I need you to find a planet, preferably not far from our current course, that. . ." He paused to think, ". . .that has minimal Federation presence, a fairly sophisticated culture, and a great deal of wealth."

"A task such as this is a waste of my capacities. I have far more important -- "

"Yes, yes," Blake interrupted in weary exasperation. "Just do it, Orac." He pulled out the key, turned and headed for the exit.

"What was that about, Blake?" Avon inquired suspiciously, standing to face the rebel. "And why is it important enough to bring you to the flight deck dressed like that?"

"It's Vila," Blake replied. "It seems he has decided to leave us, and wants to do so immediately. He asked me to find a suitable planet for him."

Avon supressed all external reaction. "Did he say why?" the tech asked clinically.

Blake shook his head, "Only that it was personal. He clearly didn't wish to discuss it, and I didn't feel that I had the right to pry. I have never seen him like that, though. He was determined, almost hard. I don't know what to make of it." He shrugged and left the flight deck.

Avon dropped back into his chair. "Leave." The word echoed in his mind. Vila can't leave -- He fought the urge to panic, clutching the arms of the chair to still the shaking of his hands. 

His mind drifted back, but he still couldn't face the powerful emotions that had captured him that night when he and Vila had made glorious love together. He knew just how deeply he had hurt the thief. He had watched the light in the man's eyes die that morning on the flight deck. Avon hated himself. He just didn't know how to love -- how to be loved. 

Vila would be better off if he did leave, Avon thought. He'd be free of the constant danger Blake put them in, and, more importantly, he'd be free of Avon. Yet the idea of never seeing Vila again brought a tight knot to the tech's stomach. He didn't know what he wanted -- he knew only that he was miserable. He was lonely and empty. He tried to distance himself from the confusion and fear that held him, so that he could approach the situation rationally, but, try as he might, he just couldn't manage it. Could he really let Vila walk away?

When his shift ended, he headed for the galley -- purely out of habit, as he had no appetite. The door slid open. Vila looked up from the table he occupied alone. The moment he saw Avon he looked down again. Avon hesitated before stepping into the room and letting the door close behind him. 

He crossed to one of the food processing machines. Paying little attention, he keyed a familiar code. He was rewarded with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk. He stared at the snack for a moment and then sighed, carrying it to Vila's table and sitting down. Neither man looked at the other. 

After an uncomfortable silence, Avon ventured quietly, "I understand that you intend to leave."

"Yes." Vila somehow managed squelch the desire to bolt for the door. Only when his jaw began to ache did he realize how tightly he was clenching his teeth. He did not want to be here, with him. How could he escape without appearing to be a frightened rabbit?

"Surely that isn't necessary. We can still work together, can't we?" Why couldn't he admit what he was feeling? Was Kerr Avon really that much of a coward?

Vila looked up at last, anger flashing. "It is necessary. I can't work with you -- I can't even be in the same room with you. You don't really imagine that I can just pretend that nothing has happened between us, do you? I'm not like you, Avon. It meant something to me."

"Vila, be reasonable."

"No," he stood, his bitterness showing through. "I don't want to be reasonable. I opened myself up to you, Avon. I bared my soul. I gave you everything I had to give, and you chucked it back in my face like it was yesterday's rubbish. Am I just supposed to put that behind me?" He paused, glaring at the startled tech. "You know, I actually believed you cared about me. I really must be the fool you've always accused me of being. Well, I won't inflict my foolishness on you much longer. I'll be gone soon. You won't have to put up with me anymore." He headed toward the door, but then turned back. "Just tell me this, Avon. Was it all a lie? Was it a lie when you wept in my arms? Was it a lie when you asked me, pleaded with me to fuck you? You really ought to be an actor, Avon. I bought every bit of it." He stomped from the room, leaving a very rattled computer tech behind.

Avon squeezed his eyes closed. "It wasn't a lie, Vila," he whispered to the empty room. "None of it was a lie." He dropped his head into his hands and cried.

* * *

Late the next day Vila had finished packing his few belongings. Blake had found an acceptable planet. In an hour, he'd be gone -- free. God, it hurt. The only thing that would hurt worse than leaving was staying, seeing Avon day in and day out, knowing that the man cared nothing for him. After a second thought, Vila re-opened his pack and shoved in several of the bottles of adrenaline and soma he had intended to leave behind. He decided that he was going to need them. 

After a last check of his quarters to be sure he wasn't forgetting anything, Vila sighed regretfully and headed toward the door. It slid open, and the startled thief came face to face with an equally startled Avon. Their eyes held a moment, then Vila hardened his face. "Excuse me," he said.

Avon didn't move. He swallowed and dropped his eyes. "May I speak with you for a moment, Vila?" His voice was quiet.

"There's nothing left to say, Avon. Let me by."

"Please, Vila. It will take only a minute." He looked up, eyes pleading.

Reluctantly, Vila capitulated, stepping aside so Avon could enter. Avon took three strides into the room and stopped dead. He did not turn, did not speak. Vila turned to face Avon's back as the door slid closed. 

The thief stared at the rigid figure, angry at himself for, even now, desiring the man. At length, Vila spoke with impatience, "I haven't got much time. Say what you want to say, Avon."

Still not facing the other man, Avon took a deep breath to steady himself. This was as difficult as he had expected it to be. At least he was certain, now, of what he wanted. "Don't go," he said simply.

Vila reinforced the shield of his anger. He would not let Avon hurt him again. "I don't have time to play games, Avon." He paused. "As if you care what I do." 

Avon turned to face Vila, his expression open and unprotected. "I care. Please, Vila. Don't leave. I. . . I need you."

"Yes," Vila retorted cynically, "I've seen just how much you need me. It was written all over your face that morning on the flight deck."

He hadn't expected Vila to be so hard, so enraged. Had he managed to completely destroy the man's love for him? "No -- you don't understand. I never wanted to hurt you. I'm so sorry, I--"

"Never wanted to hurt me?" Vila interrupted angrily. "That's rich, Avon. All I wanted was to be with you, to make you happy, and you damn near destroyed me for it! Why should I believe anything you say now? I believed you once, and look where it got me."

"That was the lie, Vila, not the night before. Everything that happened between us that night was real." There was a heavy pause. Avon dropped his head and softly went on. "I don't blame you if you hate me now, and I understand why you want to leave, but, please, before you go, let me try to explain it to you." He looked up again. "Please."

Vila considered it. He didn't want to listen -- he didn't want to be anywhere near Avon -- it was just too painful to bear. Yet, at the same time, he couldn't quite bring himself to turn away. He knew that once he walked out that door, he'd never see Avon again. That knowledge tightened his already constricted chest. The conflicting desires to linger or flee warred within him, and he berated his weakness where the tech was concerned. How much pain am I willing to put myself through, he wondered angrily? 

Maybe if I understood why Avon did what he did, Vila reasoned, it would help me get over it. He doubted it, but he used it as an excuse to spend a few last moments in Avon's presence. "All right," he said in his coldest voice, "Explain."

Avon heaved a grateful sigh of relief -- he had one last chance. They took seats opposite one another. Avon sat forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and looked down at his shoes. After long and difficult sessions of soul-searching, he had managed to come to terms his true feelings and had made his decision. He had rehearsed what he planned to say countless times. If only he could make Vila understand. 

"I have always put a high value on my independence. You have known me long enough to know that. Since I was quite young, I have arranged my life in such a way as to need no one. Even the night we were together -- do you remember, you asked me what I wanted if I could have anything? -- I told you that I wanted to be invulnerable, to need no one. I always believed that that was what I truly wanted. That belief was fundamental to everything I knew about myself." He met Vila's eyes. "Can you understand that?"

"I think so," Vila replied distantly, still unsure where this was going.

Avon nodded and continued. "I wasn't at all prepared for the night we spent together. Neither of us had planned it -- it was completely spontaneous. Even then, I was only expecting sex." He smiled briefly. "Actually, with you, I was expecting really good sex." 

Vila smiled back weakly. 

Avon continued quietly. "I was not expecting to fall in love with you. I simply wasn't ready for it, Vila. You touched things in me I never knew were there. It was amazing, every moment of it. I had never been loved like that before -- I had never even imagined that it could be like that, that one person could become everything to me, could reach so deeply into me. It seemed as though there was nothing and no one else but us." He looked deeply into Vila's eyes. "You know what we shared, Vila. We were one." Avon paused, waiting for Vila to acknowledge the truth of it. 

"Yes," the thief whispered at last.

"When I woke up in your arms, I was. . . so happy. I loved you so much. I lay there for a long time, watching you sleep, enjoying the closeness. I never wanted to move. I only wanted to be possessed by you forever. But," he sighed, "for some reason, it all began to scare me. As I looked at you, I was almost overcome by longing that was so deep, so intense, that it seemed there was nothing else in me. 

"It was so powerful, Vila. I was feeling things I had never felt, wanting things I had never wanted before. I had always wanted to be invulnerable, but I had opened myself to you completely -- you had touched my naked soul. I had never wanted to need anyone, but now it seemed I needed you like I needed air to breath. 

"Suddenly, I didn't recognize myself anymore. All of the things I had always thought were important to me, the very things by which I defined myself, now seemed selfish and meaningless. Everything I had been or done in my entire life was invalidated. It was terrifying. I was so confused. I got out of bed and looked down at you -- torn, between desiring you and wanting to retreat from all of these new and suddenly threatening feelings." 

Avon paused, shaking his head. "Unfortunately, my fear won out, and I chose the latter course of action. By the time I saw you on the flight deck, my defenses had grown so high, my walls so thick -- " 

Avon dropped his gaze. "I made a mistake, Vila -- a terrible, stupid mistake. I saw the hurt in your face. I knew exactly what I was doing to you. I don't think I will ever forgive myself for that. And I know I can't expect you to forgive me, but I am asking you to try." He looked up again, meeting Vila's eyes. "You have a great heart. Do you think you can find it in yourself to give me another chance? I will not hurt you again -- you have my word. I want an opportunity to make it up to you. Please, Vila." Tears sprang to Avon's eyes as his explanation grew to impassioned pleading. "I need you. I do love you. I'm so sorry. Please don't leave me."

Vila stared at him in silence for a moment, aching to believe what Avon was saying. He was still afraid. "What about your identity crisis? Have you resolved that?"

Avon swallowed. "I think I have. I've thought of little else these last few days, and I have come to the realization that all of those things I had thought I wanted were really just defense mechanisms. They protected a lonely, empty person inside me whom I had buried so deeply that even I hadn't known he was there. I kept everyone, including my conscious self, at a distance, so that person could not be hurt. You managed to reach past all of those barriers, and you touched me -- the real me. It appears that I was never the person I thought I was, and I never really wanted what I thought I wanted."

"Have you figured out what you do want, then?" the thief asked, daring to hope at last.

"Oh, yes, Vila. I want you. Nothing else matters to me now. I don't care where we go or what we do, as long as we're together. I want only to be with you and to love you."

Vila closed his eyes and sighed with a surge of joyous relief. Then he got up and crossed to the intercom. "Blake."

"Yes, Vila?" came the reply.

The thief turned to face Avon as he spoke. "My plans have changed. It seems I won't be leaving, after all."

"Well, . . .good. I'm glad. What happened?" The rebel sounded perplexed.

Hope dawned slowly upon Avon's face. He smiled tentatively. 

"That personal matter I mentioned has. . .resolved itself," Vila answered vaguely, smiling back. "I appreciate all you've done for me."

"You're welcome. Well, I guess I'll see you later then."

"Yes." He signed off, holding out his arms invitingly. 

Avon came into them, burying his face in the thief's neck. The action held such child-like sweetness that it brought tears to Vila's eyes. They held each other tightly, letting the rightness of it begin to heal the pain. 

Avon pulled back to meet Vila's eyes. He caressed the thief's cheek and bent to kiss him gently. Vila surrendered immediately, his own passion engulfing both of them. When their mouths parted at last, Avon trailed kisses across Vila's face to his ear. He paused, whispering thickly, "I love you, Vila."

"Oh, Avon, I love you, too," the thief responded blissfully. 

Their lovemaking was a sweet timeless eternity, a communion of their souls that swept past all doubts or secrets. When they were, at last, exhausted, they fell asleep in the contentment of one another's arms. 

* * *

Vila woke alone again, this time in his own bed. A pang of deja vu shot through him. Avon wouldn't. . . It couldn't happen again, he told himself. They were in love. He was certain that Avon felt it as deeply as he did. Last night had been perfect. 

But, so had that first night. He had been just as certain then. As much as he told himself that things were different this time, a nagging doubt remained.

He lay there a moment, fighting his fears. He had to see Avon. It was the only way he would know.

A short time later, showered and dressed, he headed for the flight deck. Avon stood with his back to the thief, working on some adjustment to the navigation computer. Blake sat on the flight couch, looking at the forward screen. 

Vila watched Avon's back for a few moments. He wished they were alone. He didn't know what Blake's presence would do to the tech's reaction at seeing him. No matter. Vila needed only to see the Avon's eyes. He'd know. 

Blake noticed him. "Good morning, Vila," he greeted him cheerfully.

"Good morning, Blake. . . Avon."

The tech turned slowly to face him. He was smiling, and his eyes held undisguised adoration. "Good morning, Vila," he said quietly.

Vila returned the smile as relief flooded over him, and his doubts drained away. They stood looking at each other joyfully. 

Blake's own eyes widened in astonishment. He had done a small amount of speculating about Vila's "personal matter," but this scenario had simply not occured to him. Who would have thought that Vila and Avon. . . ? Well, he knew when his presence wasn't needed.

"Vila, I was wondering if you would do me a favor. I'm really rather tired. I'd like to go to my quarters and catch some sleep. Would you mind taking the rest of my shift?"

"Sure, Blake," Vila answered without looking at the rebel. "Be happy to."

"Thank you," he said, amused. He left the flight deck and the lovers behind, smiling to himself. 

Avon crossed the deck, standing directly in front of Vila, still holding the intense gaze. Finally, Vila spoke. "I missed you this morning."

Avon's smile widened slightly. "Yes, well, leaving your arms was one of the more difficult things I've ever done. And I must admit that this has been the longest shift of my life." He stepped forward, taking the thief in his arms. "Vila," he said into his lover's hair.

Vila returned the embrace, secure at last. When they finally parted, Avon gestured at the flight couch. They sat down close to one another. With anticipation, they spoke of the future. Their future together.


End file.
